Wouldn't You Like to Get Away?

A simple game I play on my PDA offers me daily reminders of the importance of time away.

The game’s objective is to clear the screen of blocks adorned with various designs. Move blocks of matching designs together, and they disappear.

The game’s rules and board layouts make for challenges of varying degrees. Some boards clear via a collection of moves that I identify almost instantly. Other boards look easy, but prove otherwise. Some boards seem impossible.

It’s the impossible boards to which I react with predictable impatience. After six or eight valiant attempts, I invariably power down my device or switch to another application, huffing and fuming frustration as I do. “This one can’t be done!” I cry, many times in a hushed but audible scream.

But often, something changes when I return to the game after a few minutes away. It happens frequently that after a break – most times, only a moment or two; rarely hours or days – I look at a puzzling board and see the solution. As if someone switched on the hallway light midway through a wall-hugging, middle-of-the-night journey to the kitchen, the right course lies in plain sight. A few taps of the screen, and I’m on to the next puzzle. Without the interruption I would probably have found the solution. . . eventually. . . but only after too much time and countless expletives. Getting away is good for me.


What situation has you frustrated at the moment? What problem seems too vexing, too daunting, too out of your reach to solve? Might you benefit from a power down, or a switch to something else for a time? Who knows, perhaps after a break the hallway light will also switch on for you.

It’s just a thought.


Pray with me:
God, after creating the heavens and the earth you took a day to rest. If you needed a break, surely we do, too. Help us unhook, turn off, power down, or simply get away now and then. And then open our eyes to see the way, your way through the puzzles of life. In the name of Jesus, Amen.